Countdown. Heather Woodhaven
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as she watched James reunite with his sons. His broad shoulders provided enough room to embrace both children at once. He stood as he held them to his chest, their little feet dangling. Both pairs of little arms wrapped around his neck.
She turned to the side, not wanting to intrude on their moment. She’d gotten to know James and the boys as they car-pooled to church together every Sunday and Wednesday...at least until a few days ago when he’d left without her.
Last Sunday, she had walked to the sidewalk at the appointed time and found his car already halfway down the street. She wouldn’t have minded driving on her own to church, but the lack of communication infuriated her. She’d half hoped he would explain, but on Wednesday he’d gone without her, as well. She’d meant to talk to James about it the past few days, but the awkwardness of the situation didn’t inspire her to make the first move. And now certainly wasn’t the time.
Other sirens approached, but they had a different rhythm to them. Her suspicions were confirmed as an ambulance pulled to a stop on the main road. She didn’t envy the commuters the traffic jam it created, but his boys were alive. That was all that mattered.
A policeman stepped in front of her. “Ma’am? Were you the one that called in? I need to ask you some questions.”
Something flew into the back of her legs. Her knees almost buckled. She looked down to find two three-year-old boys firmly attached to her legs. The officer smiled. “I’ll give you a minute,” he said.
“Daddy said you saved us.” Ethan held on to her right leg.
Caleb squeezed her left knee. “We’re supposed to say thank you.”
“I didn’t say you should tackle her, though.”
Rachel twisted her torso to find James McGuire, tears in his eyes, flash a sheepish grin at her. “I—I can’t thank you enough,” he said.
He reached above the boys and pulled her into an awkward hug. His arms squeezed her tight around her shoulders for half a second, as if he was about to lift her up instead of embrace her. Despite it being a clumsy hug, her cheeks heated. His abrupt release threatened her balance, but the boys’ weight around her feet helped steady her. She averted her eyes. She didn’t want him to see how his hug affected her.
James cleared his throat and bent down. “Boys, let Rachel move.” The twins took the cue and jumped into his arms again. They had blond hair, from what she assumed was their mother’s side, but their blue, sparkling eyes and dark eyelashes were an exact duplicate of their father’s.
A movement in the distance caught her eye. A man crouched between two trees on the opposite side of the street. The kidnapper returned to the scene to spy on them? A coldness that made no sense in a California suburb chilled her skin. “He’s there,” she shouted, raising a finger up. She trained her eyes and finger on him, but it seemed he didn’t care. He stared right back. A shiver ran down her spine.
The cops immediately responded in pursuit. A second later the man broke eye contact and scaled the closest fence.
“Get him,” she whispered.
James straightened, the boys still in his arms. His eyes flicked from the officers in pursuit back to her. She couldn’t imagine what he was feeling. Judging by the way the muscles along his chiseled jaw tensed, barely controlled rage was the emotion of the moment.
“Was that a bad man?” Ethan asked.
“Yes.” A steely tone radiated off that one word.
Caleb tugged on his collar. “And they’re going to put him in jail?”
His chest heaved. “Yes.” His voice cracked. “So he can never try to take you away again.”
Rachel’s ribs constricted. A man like James should never have had to lose his wife or even worry about having to lose his kids. She’d seen the way he parented them at church, during their car-pool rides, and occasionally through her window as they ran around their backyard while the boys giggled and taunted James with cries of “Chase me, Daddy.”
Such a man didn’t deserve to deal with this kind of fear, the kind she’d experienced most of her life. An inevitable darkness surrounded people like her.
James frowned, snapping her out of the morose thoughts. His dark mop of curls hung low and emphasized his blue-gray eyes. She followed his gaze as paramedics crossed the grass, heading toward them. “Are you hurt?” James asked.
She put a hand on her neck. “Nothing a good stretch and a visit to the chiropractor won’t fix.” She reached out and gently touched the twins’ blond heads, needing reassurance they were fine.
Two officers approached. “Sir? Ma’am? We need to talk to both of you.”
James nodded but his gaze didn’t leave her. Two paramedics flanked James. They each talked to the boys in hushed tones as they asked questions and tried to evaluate them. The boys clung even tighter to their father’s neck. Their little red T-shirts against his navy-collared shirt gave a resemblance to a superhero.
Rachel inhaled sharply. His gaze always sped up her heart a little. It needed to stop because they could never, ever, be anything more than neighbors.
She turned on her heel and faced the officer. “Of course. Anything you need.” The stagnant air, mixed with the smell of diesel and tar from construction, threatened the start of a headache. Her stomach gurgled with hunger pangs, as if jealous for attention.
After a series of endless questions, the beeps from a tow truck backing up halted her train of thought. They were taking her car. The muscles in her back tensed. Transportation meant freedom and control. How long would it take for them to fix the air bag and the transmission she felt certain she’d dropped?
The officer pressed his lips in a firm line, as if impatient. She nodded for him to continue, but she half heard his next question. Her gaze, fueled by a desperate need for proof the kidnapper was gone, swept past the blue uniform. She studied the hedges, flowering bushes and trees surrounding her. She couldn’t get past one question the officer hadn’t yet asked: Why would the kidnapper return to the scene and spy on them?
* * *
James studied the boys in his rearview mirror on the drive back home. Physically they were unharmed and seemed like themselves, but they remained silent, their gazes locked on the blur outside their respective windows. A clear sign that his normally talkative twins weren’t fine.
Their mom would’ve known how to help them cope after the attempted kidnapping. His throat tightened. Nikki had been gone two years. The boys probably didn’t even remember the sound of her voice.
He squeezed the steering wheel. Ever since the hit-and-run had taken Nikki away from him, he drove only when absolutely necessary. So much so, his younger brothers had accused him of becoming a hermit, and his mother worried aloud he’d developed agoraphobia. Only his father seemed to understand. Or maybe he didn’t. James couldn’t tell because he hardly said a word.
The manic chase to the subdivision exit marked the first time he’d driven aggressively since the accident. Thankfully, his neighbor didn’t seem to have such squeamishness. He would never forget the way she’d tried to block the van, and then, despite being hit, gone after them like a raging bull.
What was the proper thank-you gift for such an act of selflessness? His throat swelled at the possibility of what could have happened had she not intervened. He gritted his teeth and forced the emotions to take a backseat.
Rachel sat in the passenger seat in silence, her hands squeezed together. He’d insisted on giving her a ride home after her car was towed. It stood to reason she’d be distraught over her banged-up vehicle. Even so, she was uncharacteristically quiet and still. She hadn’t let a second go by with silence on all the other rides they’d shared to church and back.
He forced a small smile. “Hey. Are you okay?”
She blinked and jerked in her seat. Her wide eyes roved past James and the